50 CENT Banks Workout, Part 2 lyrics

50 Cent, Lloyd Banks

Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move
Just give it up smooth, G-Unit
Motherfucker, you move
I'll flash my tool and blast my tool, G-Unit
Nigga, you don't know me, and I don't know you
You think you know my crew, G-Unit

I been a problem since the old days, pimps and gold caps
Now I'm in O.J. Simpson throwbacks
Y'all was wonderin' where my ass been
Probably vacationin' on South Beach, gettin' head like an aspirin

If you gassed, I can let the tec pound your ego
Or lock you in a closet with the West Nile mosquito
The press crowd in people, especially celebrities
I'm heavily shittin' on any Tom, Dick or Gregory

Nigga, you better be strappin' they want you dead if you rappin'
I'm tryin' to cave your head and your back in
I'm gettin' bread and relaxin', and attractin' a fan base
Of females with e-mails and letters to fax in

In Vegas, with a toaster and a blunt
And the hotel I'm checked in, got a rollercoaster in the front
I'ma post 'em when I stunt, the Sammy Sosa of the month
Better yet the whole season, nigga I'm still breathin'

Even though my dollars are green
I rap for the kids, that's too poor to waste eggs on Halloween
I'm gettin' swallowed clean, my habits are good
Collectin' all the karats I could

Slidin' from a stash spot to conceal the torture
And a good silencer to make it sound like the Wheel of Fortune
All this careless talkin', 'cause I'm travelin' and flossin'
Havin' a good time, and you havin' a abortion

You sucker for love, gettin' married and get divorced then
Can't even afford the batteries for your Walkman
I'm out the hood, burnin' Cali weed on Slausson
Where set trippin', turn to tragedies and coffins

Look, I mean what I'm sayin', you schemin', I'm sprayin'

Your team end up layin' on the sofa, screamin' and prayin'
Sayin', G-Unit niggaz be rollin' crazy, holdin' 80's
Older ladies starin' 'cause they starin' in that gold Mercedes

Since 50 hooked up with Shady, now they tryin' to book up and pay me
If you think I'm shook up, you crazy, baby
The boy strapped two ninas
Smokin' out a bag, big enough to fit on vacuum cleaners

I wore a glove when I blazed you, fatty, I ain't your baby, daddy
She flippin', now he tryin' to grab me out the navy, Caddy
I ain't your ave-y, papa was a rolling stone
Stockin' up to own a home, pocket full of loaded chrome

Drop and get a hold of dome, I know your motive homes
You mad, 'cause I'm fuckin' half your Motorola phone
I'm swift with the women, I'm good with my words
A lot of niggaz is hatin' on what I deserve, I'm hotter

Front if you want, end up on the curb in your Prada
And your man's runnin', ambulance comin'
Another day, another dollar, on the low from the Impala
I can have a six still in my shower, motherfucker

Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move
Just give it up smooth, G-Unit
Motherfucker, you move
I'll flash my tool and blast my tool, G-Unit
Nigga, you don't know me, and I don't know you
You think you know my crew, G-Unit
I sent a nigga that I thought you knew
To come through and put a hole in you, G-Unit

Lloyd Banks, ha, ha, 50 Cent
I ain't even gotta work hard
Look at these niggaz, ha, ha, ha
The fuck you gon' do now, nigga?

You done, had the same niggaz in the background for a long time
Think they gangster, but goin' back and forth to jail
Well, jumpin' the turnstile don't count, nigga
Ha, ha, ha, ha